


There Was A Light

by ScullyGolightly



Series: Pilot Sex [9]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s01e01 Pilot, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyGolightly/pseuds/ScullyGolightly
Summary: What if Mulder and Scully fucked in the pilot episode?Version 9





	There Was A Light

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
I do not own the characters of Mulder and Scully of The X-Files. They belong to dickbag Chris Carter who does not deserve them, 1013 Productions, and 20th Century Fox.

“We need to talk, Scully.”

“Y-yes,” she confirmed, hesitantly. His intensity translated over the phone. She could feel it just like she could when she was in his presence. “Tomorrow.”

“Now. If that’s okay. I’m outside your apartment.”  


“What?” Scully yelped, sitting up abruptly. She held the sheet up over her chest as if he could see her. It was ironic that she was exercising modesty because right before he had called she had been entertaining lewd thoughts about him, even considered pleasuring herself while doing so. And where was that modesty when she had disrobed in front of him?

“Can I come up?” he asked like he was dropping her off after a first date and had the balls to presume such a request would be received well. 

“Um, yeah.” _ Why not? _ she thought and then, _ Who am I kidding, there are a hundred reasons why not. This is a bad idea. _ “Number 35.” _ Oh god, Dana, what are you doing? _ He clicked off the line and Scully sat there for a moment, stunned, before scrambling out of bed.

She was wearing a lacy white camisole and silk shorts. What the hell had she been thinking wearing something so provocative to bed alone? Oh, right, she’d been thinking about her handsome partner seeing her like this and being so overcome with desire that he takes her right then and there. That had been the fantasy she was going to jack off to, anyhow. 

No time for that, though, that handsome partner would be here any second. Scully threw on the nearest robe she could find, and of course, it was a thin, silky one—one that would hardly conceal her hardened nipples. She rushed toward the bathroom to look for her bulky, terry cloth robe instead, but then there was the knock at the door. He was here. _ Relax, _ she told herself, _ he’s already seen you in your underwear. _ The thought did not relax her.

Scully went to the door, took a few deep breaths to try and calm the heaving of her chest, and opened it, affecting a sleepy yet nonchalant demeanor as best she could. 

“Sorry to bother you, Scully,” he said in a cursory sort of way, not sounding apologetic at all.

“That’s all right. Come in,” Scully said, stepping aside.

Mulder looked around her living room as Scully looked at him. He was disheveled—his suit jacket crumpled, collar unbuttoned, no tie, a sexy five o’clock shadow shading his perfectly-sculpted jawline, his hair askew with a lone lock flopped adorably across his forehead. Disheveled looked damn good on him. She tightened the sash on her robe and crossed her arms in front of her, hoping to hide her nipples that were now perked up even more.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks.”

He shifted where he stood and ran his hand through his hair. “I, uh, I don’t know why I’m here.” Scully knitted her brow and tilted her head in concern. “I stayed late, at the office, doing some follow-up stuff and going over Billy’s hypnosis tape. Then I found out that our reports were gone from the official record at the county, no one could tell me why. I left and drove around for a while... and I ended up here.” He shrugged, and Scully thought he looked just like a lost puppy.

“I’m going to put on a pot of coffee,” she said. “Stay and we can talk.”

“It’s late…” Mulder weakly protested, purely for the sake of being polite. He made it obvious that he wanted to stay by taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of a chair.

“Not really,” said Scully and she saw him grin shyly before she turned and went into the kitchen. 

Mulder looked around some more while Scully made the coffee. Her apartment was very homey and he felt comfortable here, just like how he had felt comfortable with her so soon after meeting her. He picked up a framed photo from her desk. It looked like a family photo. A younger Scully, perhaps in her early 20s, stood next to a man with broad shoulders dressed in a Naval uniform and a woman with dark, curly hair. He guessed they were her parents, if you combined the seriousness of the man’s eyes with the kindness in the woman’s, you would get Scully’s piercing baby blues that challenged but reassured you at the same time. There were three other people in the picture that seemed to be around the same age as Scully, most likely siblings. They all had fair skin and varying shades of red hair. _ A typical Irish family, _ Mulder thought, and a happy one, it seemed, from the look of their easy smiles.

He set the photo back down, remembering what he had told her about his own less-than-happy upbringing. She had listened to him so intently that night, the words spilling out of him because of the startling amount of trust he had in her. Maybe it was because as skeptical as she was, she had still trusted him quite readily, scoffing at his fantastic theories, but taking them seriously enough to apply her scientific methodology. She brought an integrity to the work that he needed, and he was grateful to her for that.

Mulder was a loner; he had been one since before his sister was abducted, but her disappearance made him more isolated. He kept to himself at Oxford for the most part, focusing on his studies, and continued with that tenacious, outsider mindset in his early work as a profiler. He worked well by himself. Profiling gave him that opportunity, but his strong capacity for empathy had the tendency to drain him, having to face tragedy and evil again and again. Finding the X-Files was a eureka moment, he could use his skills as a profiler as well as his passion to find answers about his sister’s abduction and other similar phenomena. 

The FBI had left him alone and he liked it that way, but then they decided to give him a partner. He had plenty of reasons to believe that this was a conspiracy within the government to invalidate his work. That was why they had sent him someone who was dedicated to hard science and evidentiary facts. But they had missed that unwavering integrity of hers or had stupidly ignored it. Either way, he came out the victor because she had already proven herself to be an invaluable asset to the X-Files as well as a trusted ally. That was why he had subconsciously steered his car in the direction of her home. So much progress had been made during the case in Oregon and now it was all being covered up. He was disheartened, lost—and he had instantly thought of her, suddenly craving her companionship. 

Scully came back in with two mugs of freshly-brewed coffee and he put on a freshly-brewed smile for her, warmed by the sentimental thoughts he had just been having, steeped in his growing affection. 

They sat together on the sofa and Mulder told her about their disappearing files and how he had gotten the runaround from the Raymond County DA’s office. The work conversation and professionalism soon dissolved into a dialogue of a more personal nature as they both embraced this pleasant rapport that came so naturally to them. It had been there from the beginning, even when they were hotly debating what was plausible within the realm of science—there was a mutual respect that developed quickly and organically.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t have some hulky boyfriend here to kick my sorry ass for calling on you so late.”

Scully chuckled. “No, no boyfriend.”

“Now _ that _ is an X-File,” Mulder said, and she blushed.

“No time for a boyfriend,” she sighed. “Too focused on my career, I suppose. At least that’s why my last relationship ended.”

Mulder nodded his head in commiseration. “And now you get to spend all your time with me,” he said, flashing her a cheesy grin.

She laughed and then fell quiet, looking up at him, eyes all hooded and shy. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You are?” he asked seriously.

“Yeah,” Scully said, trying to reclaim her poise. She was about to leave it at that, but the way his sparkling hazel eyes bore into her with such earnestness, she caved and told him what had really just crossed her mind and had crossed her heart back when they had first met, “I feel like I’m on the cusp of a great adventure with you, Mulder.” 

And with that, Mulder melted, his insides felt all warm and gooey, and he almost outwardly shuddered as the feeling took hold of him. But, he was a man with great insecurity (that tended to happen when you lived your life not being believed by everyone with whom you came in contact) so he asked for reassurance. “You don’t feel trapped? Like they stuck you down in the basement with ole Spooky Mulder?”

“Not at all,” she said sincerely. “If anything, I would think you’d be the one feeling stuck with me.”

His cheeks colored with guilt. “I’m sorry I did kinda give you that impression in the beginning, huh?”

“I believe you said I was sent to spy on you and at one point you mentioned my ‘little report,’” she said, not letting him off the hook, but also smiling so he knew she didn’t take offense. 

He jokingly winced at his own words, happy that she didn’t feel slighted. “Well, I don’t think that anymore. I trust you, Scully, and I don’t trust very easily.”

“I know that, Mulder.”

This exchange felt like something between two people who had known each other for longer than the short amount of time that they did. They held their gaze and the air around them took on a sudden charge to it. And it wasn’t imagined by them because when Mulder placed his hand on Scully’s bare foot beside his thigh, it set off a spark. Scully let out a little gasp. Mulder recoiled, startled, but then rested his hand back down, rubbing his thumb over the delicate bone of her ankle as if to soothe the shock.

“Explain that, Agent Scully,” he said quietly.

“Explain static electricity?” she asked, affecting naivete, knowing full well he didn’t need the definition. He was referring to the spark, not the one produced by him touching her, but the one she felt in her heart like a jolt—the glint in his eyes told her he felt it, too.

His hand traveled up her calf; he watched, entranced, as he skimmed her soft, marzipan-like skin. It took effort to tear his eyes away, but he did, looking intensely at her for permission to keep going, for confirmation that their chemistry was too powerful to ignore. “Yes, please,” he answered, wanting to hear her spout scientific reason—it had already become a quality of hers that he found irresistible.

Her lips parted as her breath became thick inside her chest. She dropped her knee, the robe falling open to reveal a pale sliver of her inner thigh. “Opposite charges attract each other,” she whispered. He nodded, his hand now higher up on her leg, caressing the graceful depression behind her knee. “When the charges build up,” continued Scully, amazed that she was able to keep speaking, “they find a way to release, resulting in a spark.”

“Ah,” came a rumble from the back of his throat, like he was just learning this fact at this moment and not decades ago in middle school. His fingers traipsed the smooth expanse of her thigh as he leaned closer to her.

“Muh--” His name was cut off by a whimper. His hand felt too good on her and he was too close to her throbbing sex. Too many charges were sparking off inside of her, she could feel her hot blood pulsing through every vein. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. His fingertips finally met the damp silk that covered her. Mulder could feel the coarseness of her pubic hair through the thin material and he groaned at the realization that she was not wearing underwear. Scully tilted her pelvis to deepen his feather-light touch that threatened to drive her mad. Her display of need did not go unnoticed, and he pushed her shorts to the side, prodding at the liquid warmth of her entrance. 

Scully hissed and grabbed a hold of his forearm. Mulder stilled his fingers inside her, searching her eyes for uncertainty, but what he saw in those darkened royal blue pools was a plea, a plea to keep going. She voiced as much with husky supplication, “Please.”

He thrust two fingers in as he pressed the pad of his thumb into her clit and a beautiful cry of pleasure ripped from her throat. She rocked her hips in concert with his movements inside her, holding a fierce stare with him where charges were almost visible in the electric air between them. He went deeper and put more pressure on her plump button of nerves; her head fell back and her panting breaths quickened. 

Mulder was awestruck, unsure of how he was able to keep up the precise ministrations that his fingers were doing. It was like the blinding flash of light he had seen in the woods, except this was his buttoned-up partner coming undone underneath him, the brilliance of her passion bewitching him where he could do little else but bear witness to the profound beauty of it. Unlike his experience in Oregon, this was tangible, but still every bit a sublime mystery—one that could also become a lifetime devotion.

Right as she was drawn under the last crashing wave of her climax, Mulder covered her with his body, pressing his lips to hers to absorb the intense charge of her release. And once he started kissing her, he couldn’t stop. Scully was gasping for breath, but clumsily kissing him back. The things he was doing with his tongue didn’t give her any chance to come down from her orgasm; she was caught in magnetic suspension, her bloodstream humming like it was pumping electrical currents instead of blood.

She repeated her plea from before. “Please” floated out on a raspy breath. Mulder lifted off her to hastily undo his trousers; he only did as much as he needed to free his cock. Then he yanked her shorts aside again and plunged into her warm, plush depths. They cried out in unison and then moved in tandem, but their actions were jerky and frantic like this shared euphoric feeling could be ripped from them at any second. Scully had already learned how precious evidence was in her new line of work and how it could disappear without a trace. She wrapped her legs around Mulder’s hips tightly, to keep the evidence of their chemistry, this hot, igniting spark with her as long as she could. 

“Scully,” he whispered harshly against her cheek. He thrusted his hips and felt her squeeze around his shaft. “Fuck.” He wasn’t sure he could stop his orgasm from happening, but he wanted to see her come again—it was otherworldly, and he just so happened to be an expert in things which were out of this world. Then the ripples of pleasure began and he let go, getting lost in the rapturous quaking of her body beneath his which sustained his climax for longer than he thought possible. Another mystery she had shown to him.

They matched moan for moan as they rolled through each swell of ecstasy until, at last, their sated bodies went limp. Mulder, breathing heavily and still draped on top of her, pushed sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead, looking at her with the same expression that had graced her face when they had met back up in the woods. “There was a light,” she had said in awe. He had just seen one, too—the radiant light within her. She had bestowed it on him like she had with her trust, and he was humbled by it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t quite wrap my head around them fucking in the woods at that point so this is my nod to that (and I did have them fuck in the woods already, kinda, it was a cemetery but pretty similar)


End file.
